


Arkham Profile: Harley Quinn

by gutturalmess



Series: What If... [3]
Category: CodotVerse, DC - Fandom, DCU
Genre: CodotVerse DCAU - Freeform, Cruelty for its own sake, Devil in Disguise (a Harley Quinn tag), Entrapment, Gen, Harley and Edward are exquisitely bitchy friends, Le Vicomte et La Marquise (an Edward Nygma and Harley Quinn tag), Manipulation, One Rogue Leads Another (Gotham Rogues tag), Pulling their strings (an Edward Nygma tag), Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 09:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19971760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gutturalmess/pseuds/gutturalmess
Summary: Speechless, he stared at this beautiful, sopping apparition as she peacefully fell back into silence, rinsing out the suds. Such a sweet face, but such a filthy mouth.CV!Harley is one whole person, and is not defined by a relationship with a character who somehow deserved more organic development than her.She'snastywhen she wants to be.





	Arkham Profile: Harley Quinn

**Author's Note:**

> _In Arkham Asylum, patients on levels 1-3 are woken at 7AM for roll call, then escorted to their daily shower; room inspections are conducted while the patient is showering. For safety, a guard will accompany the patient when they are moving between the cells and the shower rooms. The former Dr. Harleen Quinzel, now more commonly known as Harley Quinn, is a level 2 patient. Though not known to be violent, Quinn has been officially diagnosed with Histrionic Personality Disorder; guards of both male and female persuasion are encouraged to be wary of her flirtatious, attention-seeking behaviour. A solid reputation ensures her continued respect as a former medical professional, but Quinn continues to make sceptical minds wonder whether or not HPD is but a facade for another, more serious disorder._

After a prolonged beep, the glass door slid open; Harley watched the guard on the other side, head tilted as she twirled one pigtail around her finger. 

“Harleen Quinzel, I’m here to escort you to your shower,” the guard announced stiffly. 

“Never seen ya face, before.” 

“No, you wouldn’t have.” 

“New, huh?” Harley smiled, cheeks dimpling. “Call me Harley. Everyone does.” 

All business, he refused to rise. 

“Step out of the cell, please.” 

All innocence, she acquiesced. Nearby, Edward Nygma was being escorted to his own ablutions. Catching his eye as she followed her escort, she lifted her eyebrows; he gave her an imperceptible nod in return. 

When they arrived at the women’s shower room, she was surprised to find it empty; usually there was at least one other female patient present to save on time. 

Looking around, she said, “all alone today?” 

“No other females are currently on a compatible level to you.” 

“Lucky me,” she grinned, kicking off her slides. “But no Pam?” 

“Dr. Isley has… special arrangements.” 

“Prob’ly photosynthesisin’,” she mused, wasting no time in pulling her shirt scrubs up and over her head; her pert, springy breasts dropped free, nipples hardening in the cool air. 

The guard couldn’t help but blink rapidly when she shucked her bottoms off with equal nonchalance; she hadn’t been wearing any kind of underwear. Licking his lips, he turned his head away. 

“Ya can look,” she said. “I don’t mind.” 

Perceptibly, he took a deep breath and some control of himself as he turned back. Harley was smiling at him, face open and trusting - there was no evidence of guile. 

“No room for modesty in this place, honey,” she said. “Yeh’ll get used to it.” 

He swallowed, seeming to struggle with the prospect of such a thing. 

“Just trying to do my job.”

“Right now,” she laughed, “lookin’ at me is ya job.” 

“But you’re… his.” 

“And he’s mine,” her eyes flashed. “But it don’t hurt him not to see everythin’ that goes on.”

As she leaned her weight onto her right foot to hang her clothes up and away from the shower, she turned back to look at him like she was having her picture taken. _Wasn't she? No, she just turned around, that’s all._

“Don’t ya worry,” she soothed, all sweetness and light. “‘S fine. I feel safe with ya." 

A warm, comforted feeling washed over his body, dispelling his fears; however, it did nothing to allay his now insistent erection. Still smiling, Harley stepped into the doorless, glass-walled shower stall and turned on the water. As she soaped herself with the issued brick-red bar of carbolic soap, he tried to think of other things. _Dead puppies. Baseball. God, anything but this… this live grenade._

Lifting her arms to shampoo her hair, Harley spoke again. 

“I can see how hard y’are for me,” she said. "And I like it." 

The innocence was gone, and her tone was anything but coy; at first he wasn’t sure if he had heard right. Keeping her arms up, she went on without looking in his direction. 

"Looks like a lovely dick, too, “ she said. “Bet it tastes good. ‘Specially when it's shoved right down a gal's throat." 

Speechless, he stared at this beautiful, sopping apparition as she peacefully fell back into silence, rinsing out the suds. _Such a sweet face, but such a filthy mouth._ This was straight out of one of his fantasies - or a porno he’d seen once, maybe - and he couldn’t believe it was actually happening. The pressure on his dick was getting painful. Squeezing conditioner into her palm, she massaged it into her hair, head bracketed by her arms. 

"Lemme see your dick,” she said; he started. 

“W-what?”

"Come on," she peered at him through the crook in her arm. "I wanna see your dick, pretty boy - and you want me to see it,” she said, eyes heavy-lidded and burning. “You wanna show me just how much ya like the look of me.” 

“Yeah! Uh… ” he coughed. “I mean, no -” 

"Oh. Ya don’t want me, then?" Harley pouted; he almost sprained his neck in his haste to nod. 

"I do. I do. More than anything." 

“Good," she laughed softly. "That’s good. What d’ya want?” 

“I want to worship you,” he said, gazing at the rivulets running down her skin. 

“Your… heavenly body…” 

“That’s cute, but I can’t fuck ya here, honey.” 

Despite already knowing she was right, he still found his disappointment hard to swallow. 

“You can’t?” 

“Maybe in the outside world, but not here.” 

Ruefully, he had to agree. 

“Much as I wanna feel ya inside me…” a moan escaped his lips, quite unbidden; she smiled. “Too many eyes.” 

“What do you want from me, then?” 

The pleading in his tone made her chest swell up and out with pleasure. 

“You can gimme somethin’ ta think about when I’m all alone, wit’ only my fingers for company.” 

If he could have melted at her feet, he would have. No woman had ever been so brazen, so sexually aggressive right to his face; combined with the taboo nature of her being both certifiable and spoken for by someone even more insane, she was making him irresistibly aroused. When she turned away from him to rinse her hair, he eagerly unzipped his slacks and took his dick in one hand, ready and waiting for her approval and whatever else she might have in mind. God, he could only imagine what a woman like this could do to a man… 

As she turned around, Harley looked down - and screamed. Stumbling backward, she tried to cover her breasts and mons pubis with her arms and hands. Within seconds, two more guards rushed into the room in time to see their fellow guard hurriedly zipping up, with Harley terrified and dripping wet, cowering in one corner of her shower stall. Stunned, he tried to speak. 

“She - but - she -" 

"What's going on in here?" 

“I was just showerin’,” Harley burst into tears. “He - he exposed himself to me,” she wailed. 

“She - she was - she was coming on to me,” he protested; the guards shook their heads, one taking out a squawking walkie-talkie. 

“Not what it looks like, bub.” 

“Alpha One, come in,” the walkie-talkie crackled. 

“This is Alpha One, go ahead Camera Security,” he said. 

“Got a status report for you on recent events.” 

“Listening.” 

“Quinzel was showering like normal." 

"Then what?" 

"Your buddy there was watching the whole time like normal, but then he got his cock out behind her back - then it turned into what you see here.” 

“Right,” the first guard said grimly, putting away the radio. “Come with us - this is going right to Dr. Arkham.” 

“But - but -” 

“Camera doesn’t lie.”

“But -” 

“Just shut up, man.” 

Knowing he was beaten, he gave up. Harley blinked at them all, water making starfish of her eyelashes; lower lip trembling, she was still trying valiantly to cover her dignity. With a kind smile, one of the guards picked up and hung her towel on the hook outside the stall. 

“You be okay on your own for a bit?” 

“Yeah,” she shivered, teeth chattering. 

“Be sure to return to your cell.” 

Nodding, she agreed as she watched them drag her offender away. When she was alone, Harley turned off the taps. Then she toweled herself, put her scrubs back on, and wandered back to the cells. When she came down the main hallway, she heard the commotion recent events had caused; angry words swarmed around as she pushed wet hair off her face. 

“The hell happened?” 

“Heard a guard got his dick out while Harley was showering.” 

“Sick fuck.” 

“Guy’s a dead man when Joker gets him.” 

“Lucky if he ends up a grease spot on the highway. Hey, there she is. You okay, girl?” 

“Yeah, ‘m okay,” she mumbled, not bothering to pause; the voices continued behind her as she kept walking, eyes front and features blank. However, one voice made her frown and tilt her head to hear it better; he was kept on a floor below her, but she could still make him out. 

“Who was it? WHO WAS IT?” Joker was howling. "Give me a name and I'll rip his fucking heart out!” 

“Love you too, puddin’,” she replied.

As she got close to her cell, Edward reached out one hand and banged it once against his own glass wall. From the shadows within, the rest of his body appeared; his hair was still wet from his own shower, slicked off his face. Harley turned to look at him, shaking her head: even in scrubs he still managed to look good. 

The traumatised mask slipped as she laughed and pressed her palms up against the glass. 

“Ya heard?” 

“You just had to go and set a wildfire,” Edward inclined his head. “So I sure did.” 

“And whaddya say, sweet cheeks?” 

“I say,” he purred, “that it seems you skinned the fresh meat in a flat fifteen.” 

“Ohh, but who’s countin’...” she teased. 

“How did he fall?” 

“Like a ton o’ bricks,” she said. “And all on camera.” 

“Proof?” 

“All my side. Only talked when the camera couldn’t see my mouth move.” 

“Oh, that’s _good,_ ” he said, approving. 

“I’m a big damn American hero.” 

“Bet your ass. You going to tell Joker about your wicked, wicked ways?” 

“Nah,” she said. “He’s like a snarlin’ dog on a leash like this - more fun not to.” 

“Baby, you’re an inspiration,” Edward said, eyes glinting and mouth curled cold. 

“Thanks, ya sexy bitch,” Harley said, pressing a kiss to the glass in front of his face, leaving a mark. “Better go in - good little victims go back to their cells when Jeremiah comes callin’.” 

“Hang around a bit. Make him think you needed someone to talk to.” 

“And I’d pick _you_ for that?” Harley laughed; Edward smirked. 

“I can distract you by talking about myself, if you like.” 

Harley leaned her shoulder against the wall. “What else ya got?” 

“I am interested to see what we get for a replacement, since that one’s for the high jump.” 

“Maybe it’ll be someone our smooth-talkin' Eddie can tear up," she said, raising her eyebrows; he lifted his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. 

“We’ll see.” 

“Can’t have ya gettin’ rusty,” she teased; he scoffed. 

“Put away the oil can, Dorothy. I’m still on top of my game."

“Lookin’ like I’m the one on top, right now.”

“Don’t get comfortable - I can buck you off any time.”

“Such a way wit’ words,” she said, fanning herself with one hand; he chuckled. 

“Arkham’s coming. Get your face on.” 

Harley let herself crumble into a figure of misery, dropping her shoulders and hair falling in front of her face in pathetic clumps. 

“Good?” 

Edward nodded at her. “Perfect.” 

"You get your mask too," she winked. "Pretend like ya give a damn 'bout my chastity." 

"What little there is to care for," he said; she giggled. 

Edward set his face into righteous anger; Harley gave him an approving gaze. 

“Put it away,” he said with a soft laugh. “You’re supposed to be upset.” 

“I got this,” she said, voice trembling as tears welled in her eyes. “Ya just so _byoodiful,_ honey.” 

“And you’ve looked better, my darling.” 

"Yeah, but I’m pretty when I cry,” she said. 

"Miss Quinzel?" Dr. Arkham called. 

“Doctor, for fuck's sake," Harley murmured, rolling her eyes. 

"Guess Daddy's home - time to squeal but good on the babysitter." 

"Going to keep him here and let me watch?" Edward whispered. 

"For you? Always." 

Edward smirked and made the sign for 'sweetheart' with his hands; Harley air-kissed him behind her hair, then drew in a ragged breath and turned her head. 

“I’m… I’m right here, Dr. Arkham.”


End file.
